App shows all the dead people around you

A NEW smartphone app combines geolocation and the paranormal to show all the ghosts in your vicinity.

Spectr uses satnav, wifi mapping and unearthly forces beyond the knowledge of mortal man to show miserable ghosts sitting on every surface in every one-bedroom flat.

Francesca Johnson of Muswell Hill said: “I look through my iPhone and I see hanged highwaymen on the sofa, Roman legionnaires in the bathroom, one of Jack the Ripper’s victims where I prop my bike in the hall.

“I really wish I couldn’t. It’s like being that kid from The Sixth Sense, only less punchably precocious.”

Banker Tom Logan said: “The ghosts really disapprove of my 21st century lifestyle and keep telling me to get off my iPad and work a loom, or have six children, or go to war with France.

“And the Tube, wow. I thought it was crowded and stinky before all the guys from the plague pits.”

Historian Mary Fisher said: “At first it’s an eye-opening experience to see unquiet spirits all around us, but very quickly it just becomes awkward.

“If conversation lulls, the one thing which Londoners of any era can share is outrage about house prices.

“You should have seen old Goody Fisher’s face when I told her that her cottage in Dalston, which she sold for a mere four chickens and a daughter eight centuries ago, just went for £1,360,000.”

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Is this the baby blues you hear about?

Dear Holly,

Ever since my son was born recently, I’ve been struggling a bit. Yesterday I found myself standing at the kitchen sink weeping, looking out at the deserted garden as milk dripped from my nipples. Is this the baby blues you hear about?

Simon Cowell 

Los Angeles 

Dear Simon,

Whatever the problem is, you need to give yourself a slap and step up to the plate, because you’re a dad now and you have things to do. Firstly, you need to sort out your CD collection and ensure you’ve stocked up on Santana, The Mavericks, and Michael Buble (for the ladies). Then you must revamp your wardrobe, ensuring you have an adequate supply of slate blue corduroy trousers and plenty of uninspiring fleece-based attire for going to B & Q in at the weekends. Now just go a bit bald and congratulations, you are no longer a man but a middle-aged paternal idiot like you get in TV adverts for fast food and household products.

Hope that helps,

Holly